


The Authentic Life Chapter 3

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-13
Updated: 2006-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 09:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/354970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan and Martha are shocked to discover that Clark and Lex are more than just legendary friends, and Clark's summer in Metropolis is far from gone and forgotten.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Authentic Life Chapter 3

## The Authentic Life Chapter 3

by Coren Lee

[]()

* * *

The Authentic Life  
By Coren Lee 

Chapter 3 

Jonathan was feeling more like Alice in Wonderland every passing moment. Martha had managed to get them into the club by concocting a story about looking for an under-age son who had managed to get himself involved with an older member. Brilliant really, no club would dare to ignore a parent who insisted that an under-age child had gained access somehow, but having got into the club, the sights and sounds that confronted him were simply overwhelming. At any moment he expected to see a white rabbit dashing past, or at the very least a grinning Cheshire Cat. 

"People actually do this for fun?" he shouted at Martha as they were taken to speak to the Floor Manager. 

She smiled at him but didn't try to compete with the decibels being pumped out by what looked (and sounded) like industrial strength speakers. 

They were taken to an area that was slightly protected from the wall of sound, a gangway that appeared to lead into a private area. Jonathan was more than happy to leave any conversation in Martha's capable hands, and started scanning the club to see if he could spot Clark or the woman he had been with at the restaurant. At first all he could see was a writhing mass of bodies and almost gave it up, but just as he was about to turn back to Martha, his attention was drawn towards an imposing god-like figure wearing skin tight leather pants and a skimpy silver tank top striding through the crowd as if he owned the place. Which, on reflection and taking into account the name of the club, Jonathan realized he very well might. 

He nudged Martha, "he's over there". 

She followed the direction of his nod, and again Jonathan could tell the exact moment when she located Clark by a widening of her eyes and a tight grip on his arm. 

"We must speak to that man," said Martha, pointing to Clark. 

Jonathan was watching the Floor Manager closely, and he saw the guy pale and shake his head. 

"I'm sorry Madam, but that's not possible. It's more than my job is worth to intrude when Mr Alexander is in the club with a guest." 

"Mr Alexander?" 

"Yes Sir, Mr Alexander is the owner of the club. We all have very strict instructions not to disturb him; I really can't intrude on his evening." 

"Look, I can guarantee that he'd be a lot more upset if you didn't let him know we were here." 

Jonathan could hear the steel in his wife's voice, and almost felt sorry for the Floor Manager. It was plain he was scared to death of ignoring the orders he'd been given, but Martha was letting nothing stand between her and her son. He had to wonder just how Clark managed to inspire such fear in his employees; then again, perhaps he was better off not knowing. He was so far out of his depth here he couldn't begin to make sense of any of it. Perhaps the bottle of wine they'd had with dinner had actually been labelled "Drink Me" rather than "White Zinfandel", and he really was going to bump into the white rabbit at any moment. It made about as much sense as anything else. He shook his head and refocused on the Floor Manager, who seemed to be weakening under Martha's considerable powers of persuasion. 

"Please," she added, "just let him know we're here. If he doesn't want to talk to us that's fine, just point us out to him." 

The Floor Manager shook his head, but with a resigned look that confirmed he was going to do as Martha had asked. 

Jonathan watched him make his way back into the main part of the club, and then turned his attention back to Clark. This time he noticed that the woman from the restaurant was still with him, she and Clark toasting each other with champagne flutes before swallowing the contents as if it was water. And there was another incongruity for Jonathan to wrap his brain around. Clark had never seemed to enjoy wine or champagne when they had allowed him a glass, and took only tentative sips. He closed his eyes briefly trying to recall an image that wasn't an affront or challenge to his fondly held beliefs about his son, and then as he opened his eyes again, wished he'd kept them firmly closed. Clark's date had not only climbed into his lap she seemed to be fucking him on the spot, or at the very least, she was giving him a very enthusiastic tonsillectomy. It was like watching a car crash or train wreck. Jonathan's brain was giving him very definite orders to stop watching, and stop watching now, but he just couldn't turn away. He watched Clark's hands caress her lower back, and then drift down over her flat buttocks to the tops of her thighs, where he started to lift the short (very short!) skirt up to reveal stocking tops and garters. 

"Jeezus Martha, he looks like he's going to take her right there on the floor!" 

Jonathan was not an especially religious man, but he offered a fervent prayer to any deity that was listening that the Floor Manager could reach Clark before he got onto whatever he'd planned to do next. It was obvious from the tension vibrating from the Floor Manager that he really, really, didn't want to be doing this, but thankfully he managed to attract Clark's attention and Jonathan watched a quick verbal exchange take place. Clark's girlfriend (maybe? possibly a paid escort) leaned back slightly as the Floor Manager was speaking, so Jonathan had a clear view of Clark's face. He watched his son make an obvious effort to suppress his annoyance at being interrupted, and then time slowed as he saw the Floor Manager point in their direction, and Clark's head turning, coming to stop when he was staring directly at them. 

He winced when he saw what Clark said the moment he realized they were there, and hoped Martha hadn't seen it. He chanced a glance at her face. Nope, she'd seen it alright. There was no mistaking that pinched look around her mouth and eyes. He almost echoed his son's expletive, but managed to bite it back. 

As Clark exchanged a few more words with the Floor Manager, the woman (who was still in his lap!) turned to look at them. She gave them barely a glance, but Jonathan had the distinct impression he had been surveyed, catalogued, and priced. The Floor Manager was on his way back to them now, but Jonathan kept his attention on Clark. He and his girlfriend (or whatever she was) were having an animated discussion, but they didn't seem to be arguing. 

At that moment the Floor Manager returned to them and said, "Sir, Madam, please follow me. Mr Alexander will meet with you in his private office in a few moments." 

Jonathan felt Martha's hand take his, and knew that despite her determination to locate and confront her son, now that it came to the moment she was desperately afraid. He could feel the slight tremor of nerves and gave her hand a gentle squeeze as if to say, 'it's OK, I understand, this is not going to be easy.' 

They were taken through some security doors into a long corridor, the sound of the club dropping away almost to nothing as the doors closed behind them. 

"Thank God for that", said Jonathan with feeling. "How the hell do you put up with that noise all that time?" 

"You get used to it". 

Okay, obviously not into small talk. They made their way almost to the end of the corridor, and then through a heavy wooden door on the left into a large room. 

"Please wait in here, Mr Alexander will be with you shortly," he said, and flicked a switch somewhere that made the room glow with softly hidden lighting. 

Left to their own devices, they stood uncertainly in the centre of the room, staring but not confident enough to walk around in case they damaged anything. 

"Does this remind you of anywhere?" murmured Jonathan. 

Martha nodded. "Lex's office at the Castle. In fact I think some of the artwork is from there." She paused for a moment before adding, "do you think we should be concerned about that?" 

"On a scale of one to ten compared with everything else that's happened tonight? No, probably not," he sighed. "Come on, we might as well get as comfortable as we can." 

He led Martha to a soft leather couch, placed at right angles to two high back leather armchairs. A pale marble coffee table stood at the center, a vase of fresh orchids the only decoration. 

Jonathan was getting more nervous by the moment, not even close to working out how to deal with this situation. He remembered how earlier in the evening he'd been thinking that it would have been handy if Clark had come with a user guide; at this point he would have been grateful for an instruction card. 

He heard the door open, and took a deep breath as he stood to greet his son. And his son's girlfriend... what? It had never occurred to him that she would be included in this meeting. 

"Clark, son..." Jonathan paused, wondering how to ask the woman to leave without being blunt about it. 

"Alexa stays." 

Right. Okay, Jonathan had heard that tone in Clark's voice before. It was the 'we are doing this my way or we're not doing it all' tone, but despite that, he had to try. 

"Son, this is a family discussion, I don't think it's appropriate for this woman, whoever she is, to be here for that." 

"Clark, you were supposed to be with Lex!" For once Martha sounded the less understanding of the two of them. "How could you deceive us like this?!" 

Jonathan was more than surprised when the woman took a step forward, and slipped her arm through Clark's. If the look on his son's face was any guide, he was surprised too. 

"You don't have to do this," Clark said. 

"Yeah, but we both knew this day would come sooner or later. Might as well get it out of the way and have done with it." 

A little niggle started to worm its way into Jonathan's brain. Finally getting a chance to see the woman close up, he looked past the elaborate hairstyle and the elegant clothes and... 

"Lex?" 

"Got it in one, Mr Kent." 

"What the..." Jonathan stuttered to a halt. 

Martha hit the ground with all synapses firing. "Lex? Why are you dressed as a woman? And more to the point, why were you kissing Clark? Are you two together? As in dating? Is this why you're calling yourself 'Mr Alexander' Clark? And what on earth are you wearing? It's almost obscene! And is that make-up on your face?" 

In any other circumstances Jonathan might have found it amusing that Clark and Lex were being subjected to the full Martha onslaught, but he was still too disorientated with the speed at which all this had happened to enjoy it. He might try to remember it for later though, that could be worth an amusing moment or two. The autocratic Lex Luthor wearing a silk dress, being told off by a farmer's wife from Smallville, oh yeah, that would give him a warm feeling on cold winter nights! 

"Look, I understand you have questions, and we're quite prepared to talk about this," said Clark, "but we have plans for tonight, and those plans do not include discussing our relationship with you. This can wait until tomorrow." 

Clark walked over to the desk and pressed a button. Within seconds the door opened, and the Floor Manager joined them. 

"Damian, please escort Mr and Mrs Kent to the garage and ask Bernard to drive them to their hotel. He is to collect them again tomorrow at 12.30 pm, and bring them to the apartment here." 

"Yes Sir. Mr Kent, Mrs Kent, please come this way." 

Jonathan had no intention of being dismissed like some unwanted inconvenience, and there was no way in hell he was going to allow his teenage son to treat him like this. That 'my way or the highway' tone was back in Clark's voice, but there was only so much crap Jonathan would take before he shoved back. 

"Now hold on a moment..." he started, but Martha gave his arm a tug, and he allowed himself to be towed along as she followed Damian out of the room. He wasn't happy about it, but when he thought about it he figured Martha was probably acting sensibly and it would do no good to force a confrontation right now. They needed some time to process this latest revelation - and God, not to mention the rest of the shocks this night had thrown at them. 

They followed Damian into an elevator, and only Martha's vice-like grip on his hand betrayed just how tightly she was keeping her emotions under control. The elevator door pinged open upon an underground garage, and they followed Damian to a sleek black Mercedes sedan. As they approached, a uniformed chauffeur got out and opened the back door for them. 

As they settled into the car, the door closed with a soft 'thunk', and in no time they were gliding out of the parking garage and into the night. 

"Where are you staying?" 

"Um, at the Parkview, do you know it?" Jonathan was pretty certain the driver would know every hotel in the city, but theirs was considerably downmarket for someone who drove a car like this around for a living, so he thought he'd better check. 

"Sure, nice little place in the quiet part of town." 

They drove in silence for a couple of miles, but Jonathan was aware that every so often the chauffeur - Bernard? - was checking them out in the rear view mirror. Any moment now, he thought to himself, any moment... 

"So, how well do you know Mr Alexander?" 

He'd been expecting the question, but he wasn't sure he knew how to answer it. If he'd been asked a few hours earlier how well he knew his son, he would have said that he knew him inside out and back to front. Now, with the inescapable knowledge that he was involved in some kind of relationship with Lex Luthor and owned the hottest nightclub in Metropolis, well... he had to admit to himself that he didn't know his son at all. 

"Not well." Martha's voice cut into his thoughts. "He very kindly offered your services to drive us back to the hotel and pick us up tomorrow, but we don't know him well at all." 

"Okay, it's just that I don't get the impression he goes out of his way very often to do favors for people, you know what I mean? I figured you must be folks who've known him a while. He's a bit of a mystery, that's all." 

"A mystery?" she said, "in what way is he is mystery?" 

"I guess you could say he's one of the most private, self-contained guys I've ever worked for. He isn't in Metropolis a lot, but when he's here he's, you know, focused. Nothing seems to distract him from whatever he's doing at the time. Well, nothing apart from his girlfriend, Alexa, that is. She distracts him big time," he smirked. 

"Really. How does she distract him?" 

Bernard must have picked up on the cold tone in Martha's voice, because he glanced in the mirror saying, "nothing, forget I said anything," before turning his attention back to the road. The rest of the journey passed quickly, and in silence. They drew up to the main entrance of the Parkview, and Bernard opened the door for them to get out. 

"I'll be back here tomorrow at 12.30," he said, "goodnight." 

"Goodnight, and thanks for the ride," replied Martha, still holding Jonathan's hand tightly. 

They made their way to their room, both lost in thought. 

"Sleepy?" he asked. 

"You know, the way I feel at the moment, I don't know whether I'll ever sleep again," she admitted. 

"Come on," he said, "shower and bed. I have a feeling tomorrow's meeting is going to be tough on all of us, and we should get as much rest as we can." 

(Continues in Chapter 4) 


End file.
